I'm Coming Out
by Sam-Sam Ma'am
Summary: Erica accidentally sends her father, Chandler, a story that depicts a male gay couple. Fearing what he might think of the story that was meant to be sent to a friend, she rushes over to her parents' house to confront her father, who has a surprising confession and reaction to the story she's written.


**Author's Note:**

 _ *** the title is a reference to Diana Ross' "I'm Coming Out".**_

 _ **This was written over the course of two nights. After watching Friends on those nights, I went to get into bed and started writing this on my phone. I'd wanted to write my own version of Chandler accepting himself and coming to terms with being bi, since it is my headcanon that he is. I go back and forth with headcanoning him as bisexual or biromantic (and heterosexual), so since I couldn't decide which term to use, I just used "bi". You guys can choose whichever one you want to based on your own headcanon!**_

* * *

There was a nagging feeling in his gut as his eyes traced over the words on the computer screen that was before him. He scrolled down the page, feeling numb and barely breathing.

It was like a million thoughts were running through his mind as he continued to read the document that he assumed had been sent to his email by mistake by his daughter. There was no way that she'd sent this attachment to him knowingly. There was just no way.

His stomach was in knots by the time he arrived to the confession part of the story. His mind cheered, _"Yes! YES!"_ while his stomach begged, _"No! NO!"_

He hadn't been able to budge for hours as he read through the story carefully. It was amazing how intriguing the plot line was, but it left him feeling a familiar nervousness that he'd been trying to bury deep within himself.

The story was a joyful one for the characters. They met, they longed, they fell in love, they confessed, they lived a happy life. It was all very sweet and natural. It felt like a fantasy come true because he'd never even _dreamed_ of being able to read something so... _normal_ when it came to the certain type of love that these two characters had for one another. He had dared to venture into this type of literature in his younger days, but it hadn't been this easy to obtain, and it certainly hadn't felt this lucky or nice to have read. But even with this story being so much better than what he'd read in his youth, it still left him feeling the same way: _uneasy_.

It wasn't novel-length, so his few hours of perturbed reading ended much sooner than he'd wanted. He admitted to himself that he was disappointed that the story had ended, but he was also quite relieved when the words no longer tormented him, like they'd wanted to cut deep inside of his brain and pull out this particular detail about him that he'd been trying to hide for as long as he could remember, even from himself.

He left the email open, but closed the attachment's page from view. He placed his hand over his mouth and bounced his leg up and down as his nerves went wild and he stared at the computer screen with a blank expression. He rubbed the non-existent goatee on his face, trailing his fingers along that part of it to meet up at the end of his chin.

He slowly turned around in his swivel chair when he heard the creak of the stairs, bringing his attention away from the confusion and bombardment of his own thoughts to the 19-year-old girl standing at the door to the room. Her eyes were widened with a mixture of panic and fear. Her warm brown hair was disheveled as if the wind had licked it up and then down to create a mess of curly locks. She obviously seemed like she'd rushed over here in the autumn air. Her nose was red, and she had her coat buttoned all the way up to her neck, making her look more childlike than she probably wanted her father thinking of her at her age.

Chandler gave her a small smile that only earned a quick one in return from her as she placed her purse on the table by the door and started unbuttoning her coat as the heat finally set into her body.

"What brings you here, Rudolph?" Chandler's voice was casual as he kidded with her by referencing her blazing nose. He knew why she'd rushed all the way over here from her college dormitory to see him. He knew why she looked so restless and slightly panicked. He knew why she was here. "You didn't call before you came like you usually do."

Erica cleared her throat as she shook off her coat and placed it on the table with her purse.

"I just wanted to stop by. I would've called, but my phone died before I could. I was going to charge it in the car, but I've misplaced my car charger." Her statements sounded relaxed, but her eyes gave way to how she really felt.

Chandler could clearly see the nervousness that clouded her gaze. Just to make her sweat, he decided to ask, "So, you drove a couple of hours from your dormitory on a Tuesday evening just because you wanted to 'stop by'?"

"There are no rules against that, are there?" she questioned him snippily. "I can do that, can't I?"

"I don't know. I might have to check up on that."

She gave her father a look of annoyance, and he smiled at being able to get under her skin.

There was a pause on her end as she looked at him. She noticed that he had his email up, and for a split second, her eyes widened even more. She began to rub her arm, not meeting Chandler's gaze for a moment more than he'd like.

"Checking... your email?" she finally said, looking up in a way that Chandler could tell that she was trying to casually seep into asking him something that was etched into her mind.

He turned around to face the computer while saying, "Ah. Yeah. I just finished, actually." He logged out and clicked the "X" in the corner, closing the browser before turning back around to face Erica.

"Oh..." Her voice was small and barely audible. She gave off a coy grin as she looked back at him carefully. "Anything good?"

Chandler was hesitant to speak.

For so long, he'd been dreading facing his own fears and insecurities and curiosities and thoughts. He hadn't wanted to shine a light on the possibility. He'd wanted to lie to himself so much and so many times that even _he_ would start to believe that his lie was actually the truth. He'd wanted to grit his teeth and mutter, "I am _not_!" He had tried to keep his thoughts to himself. But even when he had tried, so many people had assumed things about him.

 _"You have a quality,"_ he recalled hearing. It was something he'd fixated on for much longer than any regular person would have. Looking back on that time now, he had slipped up during that situation. He had been worked up by it so much that he felt rather embarrassed by how suspicious it'd made him seem. He'd been on the defensive as he'd always tried to distance himself from those comments.

But as he looked back at his daughter, he suddenly wanted to finally admit to himself and to someone that he wasn't who he'd lied to himself and everyone to be.

"Actually, yeah," he replied. He kept himself seated in the swivel chair as he clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his thighs. He stared at the ground as he mulled over what to say to her. "I... got an email today. From you," he added.

The distraught look that she gave him wasn't seen as he kept his eyes on the ground.

"Daddy, that was a mistake," she told him hastily. "That was meant to be sent to my friend. I'm very embarrassed. It didn't mean anything. I—"

"Whoa! Whoa." He looked up sharply and put his hands up. "Calm down. Your story was very good," he complimented.

She blinked back at him in surprise.

"Really? _You're_ saying that?"

Chandler scoffed. "Sh'yeah." He sighed suddenly and ran his hand along the nape of his neck. "Shut the door," he told her. He watched her slowly shut the door to the office and meet his eyes. There was something guarded about the expression that she gave him, like she was finally seeing her father as unpredictable. Chandler would usually make a joke that rubbed her the wrong way, but she knew that it would be coming. But here, in this moment, she had no idea what words would be said from his mouth.

Chandler ran over what he wanted to say in his head. The thoughts poured out everywhere, and he wished that he could file them all into cabinets and just pick out the right words to say from a folder. If only his brain were more like Monica. Brain Monica would sort his thoughts out and tell his mouth what to say.

"Daddy, what's wrong? You're being really quiet, and that isn't like you," Erica pointed out, cutting through his thoughts like a knife.

Her words seemed sharp. They snapped him away from his own mind so abruptly that he realized that he hadn't said anything in a minute or two.

Erica started to wring her hands together as she looked back at him shyly.

Softening his eyes as he peered back at her, he stood up from his chair and leaned against the computer desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and focused on the best way to say what he wanted to say—something that he'd been too afraid to do for so long as he'd tried to repress his feelings for decades.

"Your story about the two guys falling in love was good," he repeated. He paused and waited for her to respond, but he noticed that her lips were pursed, waiting for him to continue, as if she knew that that wasn't all that Chandler had planned on saying to her.

He cleared his throat.

"You know how you read something that makes you really _think_?" he asked her.

She narrowed her eyes cautiously and nodded slowly.

"Yeah..."

"Your story made me think," he continued.

"That's really dangerous," she commented on habit. It was something that the two of them had picked up in life. Chandler always worried about if she'd picked up the sarcasm and quick wit _from_ him or _because_ of him. Using his own humor as a coping mechanism was something that he'd come to terms with a long time ago. He wasn't sure if his daughter using that same type of humor meant anything, but her comment surprised him, and she looked suddenly embarrassed to have said that. "I didn't mean—"

"No, no. It's okay. I'm just super nervous right now," he admitted lowly.

"You're worrying me." Erica's voice was weary and laced with concern. Her eyelids lowered, and her expression softened incredibly as her eyes never left Chandler's face on the other side of the room. "Just tell me what I did to you already," she squeaked out.

Chandler furrowed his brows and shook his head as he gave her a gentle look.

"You didn't do anything to me," he assured her. "Technically…"

"I knew it! I knew you would act weird after reading that," she squawked, much like her mother would. "I didn't mean for you to read that. You always act weird with this kind of stuff. It—"

"Erica, let me finish," Chandler interrupted her.

She looked back at him and bit her bottom lip.

"I'm glad you accidentally sent that to me."

She gave off a slightly shocked expression before letting it harden into a look of suspicion. "Why…? So, you can make fun of it like you always do? I get it, _Dad_. Guys with guys make you uncomfortable."

Chandler's brows lifted up at her turn of tone. She no longer looked guarded. She looked defensive, like she was ready to attack him if he said the wrong thing in her presence.

"I can't blame you for thinking that," he said to her as he lowered his eyebrows. "I really _have_ been a jerk about this kind of thing, but your story was really... sweet. It was natural, you know. It made me really think about myself."

"Yourself? What do you mean by that?" She noticed his lips part, but he hesitated to respond. Her eyes widened, and she slowly brought her finger up to point at him. "Daddy, are you...? Are you like Grandpa?"

Chandler grimaced at the mention of his father. Their relationship still wasn't right on track to being healthy. That train had been off of its track for years, only to gradually be chugging along with its front end on the railroad as the caboose skidded along the ground at the track's side at this point. Their relationship was better than it used to be, but Chandler still held strong feelings towards his father.

His father was the reason why he'd never wanted to come to terms with how he was. He'd wanted to distance himself from anything to do with Charles, but he finally realized that he shouldn't hide from this anymore. It wasn't weird or abnormal. It was just a part of him. It was a nice thing, and he was already happily married. That wouldn't change. But he felt like he owed it to himself to admit that he wasn't straight. He wasn't what he'd been lying to be.

That quality that everyone said that he had wasn't 100% inaccurate. Even though he had made inappropriate and demeaning jokes about others who weren't straight for years, he had really only done so to cover up any assumptions from others that made them think that he might not be straight himself. It hadn't worked out the way he'd hoped. He'd still been accused of not being straight because he hadn't always done the best job at acting like he wasn't attracted to guys.

Chandler wasn't the most masculine man in the world. He's somewhat feminine and is attracted to men, too, something that has made him feel insecure for the longest time. He's always felt strange about that, so he'd dug up a hole in his mind and buried those thoughts and feelings down. They'd seep through the surface at times, but he would attempt to make a joke or get extremely defensive about any comments or looks that others gave him because he just didn't want them to _know_. But he wasn't any less of a man because of these feelings. He wasn't any less like himself either. Erica's story had opened his eyes to the normality of his attraction, and he began to shovel away the dirt and let his thoughts be free. He didn't want to lie to himself anymore. He didn't want to have to pretend to his family and friends that he was straight when he wasn't.

Over the years, people have become more vocal and accepting of different sexualities. It's still a scary world for non-straight people, but people seem to be able to share more freely about who they are. He wants to feel accepted and not like this makes him weird or anything like that. He's still afraid of what people might say or think about him, but he's finally ready to accept that he is more like his father than he wants to be. He likes men, too. He always has. He used to think something and get mad at himself and lock that thought away. He'd hated that he could be anything like his father because he'd broken their family up. He'd changed Chandler's life because he'd told his family that he was gay. Chandler had grown up seeing things that no child should ever see. He had experienced things that make him cringe whenever he looks back on that time because it makes him realize that that wasn't right to have gone through. His childhood had been plagued with a lot of things that make his stomach churn in present times.

His father wasn't his favorite example of a parent. His mother wasn't perfect either. But his thoughts about guys had left him feeling hatred towards himself because he'd known that his father had had similar thoughts. He'd wanted nothing to do with him. He hadn't wanted to be like his father at all.

But he had to accept that they had something in common. And for the first time in his life, Chandler didn't hate himself for these feelings. He didn't hate himself for having these thoughts about guys and for being attracted to them, too. A simple story about two men falling in love had let him unbury that hatchet and accept himself because they'd made it sound so ordinary and okay to be this way.

His attraction towards men wouldn't change the fact that he still loved Monica with every fiber of his being. He was still committed and happy to be married to the woman that he loves, and he hated himself so much less because of his beautiful child that stood in front of him.

"Eh, maybe a little." He put his hands into his pockets and gripped the inside of his pants legs to calm his nerves. "Your grandpa's gay though. I'm not."

Erica blinked, frowning in confusion as her lips began to part.

He pulled out one of his hands and held up a finger to her so that she wouldn't speak before he could finish.

" _But_ ," he continued quickly, "I may have more in common with him than I want to..." He leaned against the computer desk again and placed his hand back into his pants pocket. "I've made jokes and have gotten defensive over this stuff because I've been repressing my feelings for _years_ , okay. I didn't like the thought of liking guys because your grandpa does. He came out, and my life never was the same after that. I hated him for it. I hated myself when I became aware of my attraction towards men. I buried those feelings deep, deep, _deep_ down." He sliced the air lower and lower with each "deep" he said.

Erica stood meekly by the closed office door. She had her feet right next to each other and held her hands together in front of her chest, looking back at her middle-aged father with deer-like eyes so wide that the moon could fit into each one perfectly.

"What are you trying to say...?" She sounded as if she already knew, but she wanted confirmation. She didn't want to jump to conclusions and create an awkward father-daughter moment between the two of them.

Chandler smiled back at her. "I've finally come to terms with who I am." He pulled out his hands again and placed them onto his chest, gesturing towards himself as he gave her an expression full of calm happiness. "Because of you and your story, I feel fine admitting that I'm as bi as the day is long." He waved his hand through the air as he said his simile, recollecting that time where Ross had posted that he was as gay as the day is long years ago on their alumni page. People had congratulated him back then, but he'd still repressed his sexuality, so as soon as the confession left his lips, he felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He relaxed and waited impatiently for his daughter to speak, but she just stared back at him with her mouth agape and her eyes even rounder than before.

He decided to keep quiet, allowing the information to sink in with her and himself.

He felt relieved. He could feel free of his self-loathing thoughts surrounding this detail about himself. He was happy to have finally shared this with someone and content that he allowed himself to be truthful about who he was. He was okay with it. He felt fine. Anxiety was gnawing at the inside of his stomach, but he didn't feel weird about being bi anymore. He'd finally admitted it to not only himself, but also to someone else about being this way. He felt like he could be accepted, and he instantly felt renewed as a person.

Erica slowly made her way over to him and peered up into his eyes. Her expression was warm and gentle, and she spread out her arms.

Chandler accepted her offer and hugged her. He wrapped his arms around his daughter and held her tightly as he could feel his heart pulsing more quickly at the happiness of having his child accept him for who he was.

"I'm sorry that you had a sucky childhood," Erica finally spoke.

"Wasn't your fault," he promised her.

"But it was really bad. You went through a lot, and you hated yourself because Grandpa came out and gave you a _really_ bad impression of what not being straight was. He and Grandma were terrible at raising you. I feel really bad because you felt like you weren't normal because of your attraction towards guys. You hated yourself... I can't believe you hated yourself..." Tears stung at her eyes and spilled out onto Chandler's shirt.

He pulled her face up and looked down at her weepy expression, giving her a look of sympathy as he wiped her tears away.

"Hey. Hey. Don't cry. Daddy is okay because of _you_. You really helped me feel better about myself." He placed a ginger kiss against her forehead and heard her sniffle. "You're a great kid."

Erica held onto Chandler more tightly and buried her cheek into his chest.

"I'm not a kid…" she mumbled as a smile threatened to form onto her lips.

"And this doesn't change anything. I still love your mother. She'll always be enough for me."

Erica laughed at that. "I know that. But you feel better, right?"

"A _lot_ better. It feels like a weight has been lifted. I might just float away, I feel so light."

Erica snorted, and Chandler grinned to himself.

"Thanks for telling me," she said. "Your reaction is probably a lot better than my friend's would've been to my story anyway."

"'Probably'... People only use that word if they're unsure."

Erica pulled away from him and gave him a look that reminded him of Monica.

"So, are you going to tell everyone else?"

"Probably."

She rolled her eyes. "Daddy..."

"I'll slide into it. Maybe do it over Thanksgiving dinner. Thanksgiving is always the best time to drop amazing news," he drawled out sarcastically.

"Oh, come on. It won't be that bad!"

"You obviously have not been told very many stories of Thanksgivings Past."

Erica gave him another look that she'd adopted from her mother, causing Chandler to add, "But maybe it won't be _so_ bad. Everyone says I have a quality anyway."

"A quality?"

"That's a story for another time."

Cocking a brow, she decided not to ask what that meant. Instead, she just reassured her father by telling him, "I'm sure everyone will be supportive." She then kissed his cheek and headed back over to her purse and coat. "I gotta go though. I'm meeting someone today."

She started to slip her coat back on as Chandler asked, "Oh, who are you meeting?"

"Just... a friend," she said.

"From college?"

"Yeah, from college." She began to button her coat and stopped suddenly to look back up to catch Chandler's gaze. "Actually, I have something to confess, too. You were really brave to tell me that you're bi. You've been repressing those feelings for so long that it probably wasn't very easy for you to say."

"Don't say 'probably'. It wasn't easy." He smiled at her. "Thanks though."

She grinned weakly back at him.

"Thank you, too." She finished buttoning up her last button and faced her father from across the room. She grabbed her purse from the table and held the strap in her hand. "Because of _you_ , I feel comfortable enough to tell you that I'm not straight either! I'm gay!" Her arms were thrown up, and her chocolate-colored purse dangled in the air carelessly.

Chandler's eyes widened only a tad, and he rubbed his chin as his tongue explored the inside of his cheek.

He suddenly chuckled to himself.

"Thanksgiving is going to be eventful this year," he remarked.

Erica gave him a small grin, and she watched as he made his way over to her. He placed his hands onto her shoulders after she lowered her arms.

"Three generations, huh?"

Erica smiled up at him and nodded.

"So, who's your 'friend'?" he asked knowingly.

Blushing a deep pink, Erica lowered her head in embarrassment. "My girlfriend... of six months…"

Chandler stared at her for a second before saying, "Like parents, like child. Your mother and I hid our relationship from people at first, too."

Erica smirked lightly at him, already knowing this information.

He stood closer and brushed a strand of stray hair away from her face. He looked down at her, and with a gentle smile, he told her, "Invite her to Thanksgiving."

Erica's lips curled into a softer grin at his invitation, and she hugged her father again.

"Love you, Daddy. Thanks."

Chandler rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. "We're really mushy today, aren't we?"

Erica hummed with annoyance, and Chandler brushed back her hair again. "I love you, too, Baby Bing #2."

"Ugh! Not _that_ again!" Erica exclaimed with a roll of her eyes. She pressed her forehead against Chandler's chest and groaned.

"Alright, alright. Hurry and go so you don't keep your lady waiting. You don't wanna do _that_. Trust me," he advised her as he pulled away from his daughter and turned her around to face the closed door. He opened it for her and watched her start to walk out.

"If you get married," he began to say with a lopsided grin spreading onto his face as Erica turned to look back at him, "surprisingly, it won't be the first lesbian wedding I've ever been to."

Erica laughed as she remembered the pictures of her cousin, Ben's, mothers' wedding.

She smiled back at him. "Can't wait 'til Thanksgiving!" she called back as she started walking down the hallway again, hurrying towards the stairs to leave the house.

Chandler let himself smile as he watched her leave. His anxiety was running high at imagining the holiday coming up soon and how he would confess to everyone, but he was looking forward to getting it all out in the open once and for all. For once in his life, he _anticipated_ Thanksgiving.

 _Me, too,_ he thought. _Me, too._

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_**

 ** _I wasn't originally going to upload this. I'd just wanted to write out my headcanon, but I'm kind of proud of this and thought I'd go ahead and add another version of Chandler coming out into the world! I may add the Thanksgiving that they'd mentioned was coming up, but for now, this story is completed. If anyone thinks that I should add the Thanksgiving where Chandler finally tells everyone, I'd like some opinions on that! I wouldn't mind adding it to the story._**

 ** _Since this was my first Friends fic, I would appreciate some feedback on Chandler's characterization. I relate to Chandler the most, and I am very much like him, but we're not the exact same person, so I'm still weary of making him and the others OOC. Let me know if I did him justice!_**

 _ *** this is also posted on Archive of Our Own under the same title and by samanthastral.**_


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